


A Small Wager

by spanglecap



Series: Prompt Fills & Drabbles [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Natasha Romanov is a little shit, Oral Sex, Porn, Prompt Fill, Steve Rogers is a little shit, Teasing, Wall Sex, more porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:44:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3732772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spanglecap/pseuds/spanglecap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for ice236 - “Where Steve and Nat bet who can hold off sex and surprise us who wins.”<br/>Self explanatory really</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small Wager

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ice326](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ice326/gifts).



> I was really stuck on the next chapter of Closer so I wrote this to clear my head. Thank you to ice236 for being so patient, this has literally been on my 'To Write' list for months. Hope you enjoy!!
> 
> Also if anyone is interested, the lingerie Natasha wears would be something along the lines of this;  
> http://www.polyvore.com/something_wicked/set?id=124127090

“Are you kidding me?”

Steve pulled back to stare at her in disbelief, heart hammering in his chest. Natasha was lying beneath him, looking up at him through half lidded eyes, cheeks flushed and plump lips parted. Hair mussed and half undressed, she was a vision. Until she spoke. He’d been busy pulling the most delicious sounds from her throat with his lips on her skin when she’d suggested it.

“I’m deadly serious, Steve,” Natasha replied in a sombre tone.

“You want to have a bet to see who can go the longest without sex?” Steve repeated, just to clarify.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she promised with a sly smile.

“I think _having_ sex instead of abstaining from it would be more fun,” he said, going back to trailing his lips over her collarbone and chest. His senses were too consumed by her to even entertain the thought right now. Her breath hitched, a small moan filling his ears.

“Afraid you’d lose?” she gasped out, dragging her fingers through his hair. He tried to ignore her, slipping his arm around her waist. “If you don’t think you could manage it…” Steve groaned. She always knew exactly what to say, how to challenge him to make him give in. And it would work, every damn time.

“Rules?” he sighed, knowing it was pointless to argue. She'd wear him down eventually even if he tried to hold out a little longer.

“No other rules. Just no sex.”

“Stakes?”

“Nothing serious, just a little fun. Bragging rights, if you want.”

Steve thought about it. He was a patient man, could be strict with himself, but sometimes that seemed to fly out of the window when Natasha was involved. And she could appear so distant sometimes, so completely in control and unfazed. But then Natasha had just as much fire burning inside her as he did, no matter how cool and collected she might seem on the outside. One time he’d got back from a long term mission and she’d all but jumped his bones right there on the flight deck in front of the others. He’d had to practically peel her off him until they got behind closed doors. He kissed her skin again, and just a brush of lips had her arching up against him and her breath quickening. Yeah. Maybe this _could_ be fun.

“Deal,” he said smugly, confident he could outlast her. But the devilish smile she gave him in response had him suddenly doubting his resolve. Pushing him onto his back, she threw a leg over him and moved to straddle his hips. Steve’s head swam when she leant down to kiss him, hands skimming her thighs. She waited until he was practically melting into the mattress before he felt her slide off him, and when he opened his eyes she was standing on the other side of the room.

“I thought this time didn’t count?” he complained, mildly disoriented after the sudden loss of contact. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and tried to ignore the unsated desire gnawing at his gut.

“When did I say that?” she said sweetly. “And, before you try it, the puppy-dog eyes aren’t going to work.”

“Are you sure?” he said, trying it anyway. She laughed, and disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the shower start to run, and after a moments mental debate he decided to try his luck with the puppy dog eyes one more time.

Besides, he needed a shower too. And they had to ‘reset the clock’ somehow.

 

* * *

 

 “Coffee?” Natasha asked casually over her shoulder, without even looking around to where Steve stood in the doorway. He’d just been up to Tony’s lab (one of them at least) and had come to the communal kitchen because it was better stocked than his own.

 Promising himself that one day he would manage to sneak up on her, Steve crossed the room and delighted in the way her breath hitched as he came up behind her and brushed his lips across her neck, pulling her against him. Time to make good on that bet.

“I know what I’d rather have…” he murmured in her ear. She arched against him as he slipped a hand under t-shirt, skin on skin.

“You had me an hour ago,” Natasha said, though she wasn’t sure why that would make any difference. He hummed in satisfaction, low in his throat, like he was recalling _exactly_ how he’d had her in the shower earlier. A throb of want went through Natasha at the memory. Maybe this ‘no sex’ thing would be harder than she thought.

“And?” he inquired innocently, lips never leaving her neck. She fought to keep her breathing steady, because there were two things she seemed to have forgotten when she’d suggested that bet this morning. First, Steve was insatiable. Almost as insatiable as her, and he had a talent for making her want to thoroughly take advantage of that super soldier stamina with the smallest of touches.

“Does this mean you’re giving in already?” she breathed, refusing to admit defeat after so little time. Especially seeing as it was her idea to begin with.

“You said no sex; you didn’t say anything about kissing,” he said playfully, catching her hips and turning her in his arms to face him.

And this – the second thing she’d forgotten this morning – Steve Rogers was a fucking _tease_. He was a tease when he’d take what felt like _hours_ trailing his lips over her skin, purposefully avoiding the places she so desperately needed him until she was begging. He was a tease when he’d go down on her until she was about to scream and then _stop_ before she could come _._ And he was being a tease now, kissing her hard and deep, ravaging her mouth just the way she liked it – fierce and unapologetic until her lips were swollen – before he pulled back, hovering just out of reach with an amused smile on his face.

“As soon as this bet ends, I’m going to make you come so hard you won’t be able to stand,” he told her, releasing his hold on her so abruptly she had to lean back on the kitchen counter for support, legs weak and heart pounding. Steve wasn’t really a talker – he much preferred action instead – but _god_ , when he did talk…

Steve flashed another smile at her before leaving the room, and the bastard had the nerve to actually _whistle_ while doing so. It took Natasha longer than she cared to admit to her breathing back to normal.

Oh, the game was _on_.

 

* * *

 

Natasha decided to strike back at him when he was lounging on the sofa in her apartment. As soon as he’d left her in the kitchen, she’d started formulating a plan to undo him. Monday night was date night, and though the dates varied from going to the movies to cooking at home, which may have seemed pretty mundane to some, but mundane sometimes looked pretty good after saving the world a few times. She always looked forward to date night, even if she could count the number of times they’d actually managed to _have_ a date on one hand thanks to their ‘hectic’ schedules. But tonight was one of those rare opportunities, and while Steve thought he would be taking Natasha out for dinner, she had other ideas.

While Steve waited in the other room, she unwrapped the delicate tissue paper holding the new lingerie set she’d been saving for a special occasion and put it on, taking her time. Black, mostly sheer, and definitely scandalous, she knew it would be a hit with Steve. Checking the seams were straight on her stockings, she slipped on some patent black heels and a sheer robe, leaving the belt unfastened. She looked in the mirror, satisfied that the ‘outfit’ would suitably make Steve lose all coherent thought, and as if on cue his voice drifted through from the other room.

“Nat, you ready yet? Reservations are at eight,” he called. Natasha gave one last ruffle to her hair and stepped out into the living room.

“Actually, I thought we might stay in tonight,” she drawled from the doorway, waiting for his reaction. He looked up at her, and promptly dropped the book he had been reading. He fumbled to catch it, failed and sputtered out what might have been an attempt at speech.

“Is that - I mean, is that…new?” he choked out after a moment, his voice a little higher than usual. Natasha smiled to herself, and the way he watched her as she walked over to the sofa and sank down next to him had her heart beating a little faster.

“Do you like it?” she asked, making sure to pose a little for him as she reclined. Her only response was a strangled groan as she let her head fall back to expose her throat, arched her spine and lightly ran a hand over the swells of sheer fabric. She felt him shift next to her, and the next thing she knew he was pulling her over to lay across his lap and firmly sealing her lips with his.

His hands gripped at her flesh, warm and solid and she loved how _handsy_ Steve was. Loved how very intense it felt when he held her, all heat and need and _control yourself woman,_ she thought to herself _._ She pulled away a fraction, but stayed close enough to feel his breath on her lips.

“Remember that little wager we made?” she teased, and he made this tiny little broken sound she’d never heard before, then a rumble in his chest. She played with the collar of his flannel shirt. “I thought you’d last longer than this.”

“This is hardly fair,” he said with a ragged breath as one hand toyed with the clasps holding her stockings in place and tightened his hold with the other.

“No rules, remember?” she reminded slyly.

“The _stockings_ , Natasha,” he said, exasperated. “You _know_ what the stockings do to me.”

He leant in and kissed her again, hard and tinged with desperation before tearing himself away. She slid off him and stood up, despite his protests, because much more of that and _she_ would be the one losing this bet.

“That was kind of the point,” she admitted once she was standing. Stockings did something to Steve she suspected only men raised in the thirties and forties fully understood. But it usually ended with her having a few (or several) orgasms, so she was hardly about to start complaining. She slinked over to the kitchen, turning back to face him as she reached the counter. “Now, are you going to cook me dinner or are you going to just sit there staring?”

The latter option was certainly tempting. It nearly killed him, but Steve stood with a grumble and managed to call the restaurant to cancel the reservations. He only felt a little guilty that the entire time he was on the phone he was thinking about burying his face between Natasha’s silk-clad thighs. Not to mention all the other things he wanted to do to her. He hung up and joined Natasha in the kitchen.

Making dinner turned out to be quite the challenge, because his heart was racing the entire time and she was so gorgeous and that lingerie was stunning and really he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t already taken her to bed. But she seemed pretty keen on keeping this bet thing going for a bit longer, so he held back, even when she insisted on brushing up against him wherever possible.

But it felt like he was fighting a losing battle, because there was a point as he was chopping up vegetables when she bent over where he actually had to put down the knife and take a minute to steady his breathing so he didn’t accidentally cut off a finger. He was pretty sure the serum wouldn’t repair that. And then the way she ate dessert had him practically clutching his chest and struggling to breathe because it was pretty much what asthma attacks used to feel like.

That was about the time he realised he _seriously_ had to up his game.

 

* * *

 

Over the next few days, Steve tried everything. But whatever he did in an attempt to make her sway, she seemed to have a counter attack.

When he made a show of putting on (and taking off) his uniform in the locker room – because he knew she had a thing for it – she didn’t seem fazed. She’d just unzipped her own uniform unbearably slowly, peeled it off without even looking at him and walked to the showers buck naked, a little more sway to her hips than usual. They watched a movie one night, and when she was tucked under his arm and he stroked her neck lightly with his thumb in the spot that usually had her shivering in seconds, she’d just brushed his inner thigh in a way that had him choking on his own breath.

When he’d walked around his apartment with nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his hips – because she had a thing for that too – she hadn’t even looked up from the book she was reading, but she had eaten a banana in a way that could only be considered as obscene. He even had her pinned underneath him on a sparring matt at one point, panting and sweaty and _all_ of his manhood pressed right against her core. But she seemed unflappable, flipping them over to straddle him and pressing a knife against his throat, a devilish smirk on her lips. He could have sworn she ground herself down on him before the knife left a small nick in his neck and she left him flat on his back, even harder than he had been before as she slipped off him and out of the gym.

Steve was getting close to running out of ideas, because really, he hadn’t thought either of them would last this long. Not that three days was a long time, in the grand scheme of things. He was about to go out into the city in the hopes it would clear his head. Grabbing a jacket, he shrugged it on and headed to the elevator, adjusting his cap and glasses as he went. On the rare occasion he wore them, he always felt a little stupid but he wasn’t in the mood to get stopped for photos every two seconds today. Even though the ‘disguise’ (he hardly thought it deserved the name) was weak, it was usually enough of a signal that he wanted to keep to himself to those who did stop and recognise him through the thick frames.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he watched the floor numbers on the control panel descend. The elevator stopped, and he stepped to one side to let whoever was waiting in as the doors opened.

Natasha nearly choked when she looked up from her phone. Steve was in the elevator, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was what he was wearing. Last time she’d seen him wearing those glasses, they’d been trying to avoid Hydra and the effect hadn’t really hit her. But seeing him now, there was something about it that went straight to her core, had her holding her breath.

“Steve,” she said tightly as she stepped inside, trying to appear as composed as she usually did. He smiled warmly – that stupid, adorable smile – which definitely didn’t help the rising heat in her body.

“I’m just going into the city, you need anything?” he asked as the doors closed.

“No, thank you,” she said, already feeling the weight of his presence too much in such a small, enclosed space. The past few days had been more difficult than she cared to admit, but she refused to back down. She closed her eyes and smoothed her skirt down, tried to think about anything other than how much she wanted to rip his clothes off but keep those glasses _on_. A few moments passed before he leaned over and playfully murmured something in her ear that had her nearly biting her lip to keep from moaning.

“I’m still thinking about how you looked the other night in that lingerie.”

Well. That did it.

So much for holding out longer than him. Everything he’d been doing the last few days, the wearing nothing but towels, the way he’d been fighting when they sparred – all power and strength, the goddamn s _tripteases_ …suddenly it all seemed too much and she couldn’t wait a second longer.

Steve hardly knew what hit him. Natasha slammed her fist on the emergency break button and he had his back pushed up against the wall before his brain even registered she was moving. She pushed his cap off, burying her fingers in his hair and he couldn’t help but groan when she pulled his lips down to hers.

“I can’t take it anymore,” she gasped between hot kisses, hands moving to unfasten his belt.

“Does this mean I win?” he laughed, too eager to actually care. But some small part of him cheered in relief, because he'd thought he'd been the only one going insane over the last few days. He bunched her dress up at her hips, slipped a hand to her thighs, felt something that could only be garter belt clips and Jesus _Christ,_ she was wearing stockings again. Nude ones this time. He nearly whimpered at the feel of it.

“Shut up and _fuck me_ ,” she ordered breathlessly.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he grinned. But there was one thing he wanted – no, _needed_ – to do first.

A gasp was knocked out of Natasha when Steve turned them around and her back hit the wall. He dropped to his knees and hitched her thigh over his shoulder in one fluid motion, turning his head to brush kisses over flesh and stocking alike. She bit her bottom lip, already burning, and his other hand toyed with the edge of the thin lace between her legs.

“Don’t you dare try and drag this out,” she gasped desperately, because this was usually around the time he’d start teasing her until she lost her mind. Although generally she enjoyed the almost torturous build-up, right now, that was the absolute _last_ thing she wanted.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” his voice rumbled, with just a hint of a laugh. Natasha was about to remind him that, yes, he would dream of it, when he pushed the scrap of lace aside and licked a long stripe up her folds, forcing her words to die in her throat as she choked back a moan. He flicked his tongue over her clit, sucked with a moan that seemed to reverberate through her entire body. She shuddered, burying one hand in his hair and trying to balance herself on the handrail with the other. He hoisted the thigh over his shoulder a little higher, pressed her hips towards him and slowly sank a finger inside her, crooking it just so. Natasha struggled to breathe, scorching spikes of pleasure making her gasp and whimper. She was close already, almost embarrassingly quickly, but then he’d wasted no time in focusing all his attention on her clit and by now he knew exactly what buttons to push to send her into overdrive.

Steve groaned at the taste of her. He could do this all day – and had done, a couple of times – because he could never get enough of the way her breath hitched, the way her fingers would knot in his hair and she’d grasp at his shoulders. Never get enough of the way she’d tense up and tremble at the same time, and the small sounds that escaped her would always go straight to his core.

“S-Steve!” she gasped out, clutching at his jacket collar. And then, his favourite part – when she came around his fingers and on his tongue, crying out in pleasure until she was pushing him away, breathless and weak.

Natasha struggled to stay standing. All the strength in her body seemed to have left her, but thankfully when Steve stood he gathered her up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips. She could taste herself on his lips when he kissed her and it made her thoughts even hazier than they already were. His hair was dishevelled (her own work), a light flush on his cheeks and at some point his glasses had been knocked askew but for some reason that just made her want to kiss him more. Reaching up to cup his face in her hands, she pressed him closer (if it was possible) and even in her lethargic, post-orgasm state she still wanted more. Wanted to feel _full_ , the way she did when he was inside her, when she was with him completely.

“Take me,” she pleaded against his lips, because she could barely move to do anything about it herself. Something like a growl escaped him, and she felt him pull on the material of her panties, digging into her flesh before the lace ripped and he threw scrap of fabric away.

“Hope you weren’t too attached to those,” he said, fumbling with his zipper and lining himself up, supporting her weight with one arm.

Steve watched her head fall back against the wall, eyelids fluttering shut and lips parted in a silent ‘O’ as he eased himself into her. He rested his forehead on her shoulder once he was fully hilted, because even though it had only been three days it felt like a lifetime ago and he took a moment to just savour the feel of it. He drew a sigh from her when he trailed his lips over the skin of her neck, which sharply turned into a moan when he started a steady rhythm with his hips. Sometimes he’d hold off a little, not giving her quite what she wanted until she either begged or took it herself. But she liked it hard and he figured they’d done enough waiting over the last few days so he didn’t hold back.

Natasha bit down on the collar of his leather jacket, clinging to him as she lost her grasp on sanity. It felt like the elevator car jolted with every roll of his hips, every thrust as he fucked her into the wall in exactly the way she'd been craving since that morning in the shower. She felt herself slipping away from control again, senses numbed by pleasure. Her climax hit her quickly; hot and hard, flooding through her body and knocking her breath from her lungs. Steve bit down on her neck with a shudder and a string of groans as his own release hit him several thrusts later, and all she could do was hold onto him as he came down from the high. A few moments passed before he kissed her briefly and spoke, a lazy grin on his face.

 “What did it in the end?” Steve panted, heart still hammering in his chest against hers. Natasha assumed he was wondering what finally broke her resistance so suddenly that she couldn’t even wait to get out of the elevator before having him. Funny, now it seemed a little ridiculous that something so small had been the thing to crumble her resolve.

“The glasses,” Natasha admitted with a grimace, after a pause. He laughed, breath hot on her shoulder.

“Really?”

“Really,” she breathed. Of all the little kinks she had, _that_ one seemed to have crept up on her out of nowhere. She changed the subject. “Are you still going into town?”

“I’m taking you to bed,” he told her, adjusting her weight in his arms. She inhaled sharply as she felt him, still hard inside her. God bless that super soldier stamina. “We’ve got three days to catch up on.”

Natasha let out a laugh, then kissed him languidly. They hadn’t really kissed like this the last few days, because kissing usually led to clothes coming off, and it felt good to enjoy the slow slide of his tongue against hers. She broke away a fraction.

“Want me to leave the stockings on?” she murmured against his lips, and his grip on her tightened ever so slightly.

“God, yes,” he replied hoarsely. He seemed to gather his thoughts and raised an eyebrow at her, a mischievous smile spreading across his features. “Want me to leave the glasses on?”

She nodded, perhaps a little too quickly.

 

* * *

 

Steve was walking down a corridor the next day, admittedly with a bit of a spring in his step when he heard a voice call from the other end of the corridor.

“Rogers!” Steve turned, seeing Stark jogging to catch up with him.

“Tony, something you need?” The smaller man looked him up and down, eyes narrowing a little.

“You, you owe me a new elevator car," he said accusingly.

"What? Why?" Steve asked, puzzled.

"You and Romanov, yesterday afternoon," Tony said. Steve paled a little. "I don't know if I'm disgusted or impressed but I'm incinerating that car."

"Tony-"

"-You're pretty spritely, for an older guy. I wonder what the media would pay for Captain America and Mother Russia's sex tape?"

"Jesus, I'll buy you _ten_ new cars, just destroy the file," Steve pleaded.

"Sure you don't want a copy for later?" Stark winked, and Steve didn’t think he’d ever blushed so hard in his entire life.

Tony strode back into his lab, leaving Steve alone in the corridor. Sometimes he really hated how often he forgot about all the technology and cameras that were nestled in Stark Tower.

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't like attractive blond men in glasses what is wrong with you
> 
> Comment and kudo if you agree ;D


End file.
